


Fondre comme neige au soleil

by Meme_Cracra



Series: Après la pluie [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, Pining, Winter At Kaer Morhen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:02:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26509450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meme_Cracra/pseuds/Meme_Cracra
Summary: For the first time since Jaskier had become Spring, he was impatient for winter to come. He and Geralt were going to spend it together and in Kaer Morhen to boot ! Geralt had never seen him during this Season and, given how protective he'd been lately, this was going to get interesting. This winter held many promises of long evenings spent together in front of the fire, and, for once, Jaskier just couldn't wait for it to start.Or it is only worry that Jaskier is not strong enough to spend this winter alone that pushes Geralt to invite him to Kaer Morhen for the winter, Jaskier really should stop reading too much into it. Or should he ?
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Après la pluie [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1927360
Comments: 45
Kudos: 409





	1. Que reste-t-il de nos amours ?

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there !  
> Here is the direct sequel of 'Ô printemps', I advise you to read that one before coming here, otherwise you might not understand everything :)  
> As I said previously, English is not my native language, please forgive any weirdness you might find and feel free to let me know in the comments if anything is just too strange. There should be 4 chapter to this story. I've written two by now and will start working on the others soon.  
> Hope you enjoy this new chapter in the life of Spring Jaskier in the comments ! :D
> 
> Oh, in case any of you were wondering, all chapter titles are title of old french songs I love. 
> 
> Bonne lecture

It took them some time, going back to the village. The sun had set and it was dark when they managed to get out of the forest. Geralt carried the unconscious boy despite his own injured leg, leading the way through the night and Jaskier, exhausted, was valiantly trying not to just drop on the forest floor and sleep for a week. His limbs felt like lead, every step a fight against the exhaustion pulling at him. Even through the dizziness fogging his mind, he could see Geralt checking on him every few minutes, felt his hand on his elbow when he stumbled. 

Attacking the arachas had been the obvious thing to do, saving Geralt at the forefront of his mind in that instant. But it was autumn now, leaves crunching under his feet, cold air in his lungs. Jaskier was cut off from the usual well of energy that were all green things, the constant hum of power he could draw from during spring slowly dwindling. What energy he had stored to get by in the coming weeks was gone now. He did not regret it one bit, not for a second, but he would have to plan his next travels carefully to not overwork himself and risk spending winter in a cave under piles of snow. 

‘Come on, we’re almost there’

Geralt’s hand was on his back, encouraging him toward the now visibles lights of the village. Jaskier went on, unable to focus or think clearly. It was all a blur since they’d left the monstrous spider’s cave. Jaskier paid no mind to the villagers that came running to them, thankful for their help in saving the boy. He did not hear the healer examining Geralt’s already healing wounds or the innkeeper telling them about the room he’d readied for them. There was nothing except Geralt’s hand keeping him upright at this point. 

Then they were at the inn, up the stairs and in their room. With gentle, careful touches, Geralt guided Jaskier to the bed. Jaskier fell asleep before his head touched the pillow and he knew no more.

* * *

Light streaming from the window warmed Jaskier’s face and woke him up slowly. He regained awareness of his surroundings bit by bit, as one does after a deep rest. He first noticed the warm nest of blankets soothingly weighing him down on the soft bed. Then, not far from him, came the soft inhales and exhales Geralt typically breathed when meditating. Forcing his eyes open, Jaskier turned his head and saw the witcher, kneeling, hands palms up on his thighs. He did not move until Jaskier tried to sit up.

‘Jaskier.’ Geralt stood up and hurried to Jaskier’s bedside. ‘How are you feeling ?’ He raised a hand to the bard forehead, checking his temperature.

‘Famished but otherwise fine.’ Jaskier noticed the bandage around Geralt’s leg. ‘How are your wounds?’

‘ They’re almost completely healed.’

‘ What, already ?’

Geralt looked at him for a second, frowning and tensed. ‘You slept two full days Jas.’

‘Oh’ That explained the hunger then. 

‘I wasn’t sure what would help but you did not seem in distress. I made sure you were warm.’ Geralt fidgeted with one of the furs, tucking it tight around Jaskier. It was, given Geralt usual aloofness, an enormous display of worry. Jaskier grabbed his friend’s twitching hand and cradled it in his own.

‘And that was perfect. I tend to get cold easily, especially if I’m tired. I used a lot of energy and spring is far from us now. I’ll rest for a few weeks and I’ll be all better when spring comes back.’ Jaskier squeezed his hand with a comforting smile. 

‘In spring ? Jaskier this is months away.’ Geralt growled, frown deepening.

‘Yes, but winter will be here soon my darling, and I don’t function well at all once the snow starts falling. But I’m used to it, I’ll be alright, nothing to fear.’ He insisted with a reassuring smile. Geralt hummed skeptically - one hum amongst the many Jaskier now could translate - turned and grabbed a plate full of roasted vegetables and meat on the table, putting it delicately on Jaskier’s lap.

‘I have to go take care of Roach. I’ll be back soon, scream if you need anything.’

With that Geralt left the room and Jaskier ate the whole plate in record time. He always felt hungry after using his powers, even more so this near to winter. After that he laid back down, still tired, hoping for a small nap before Geralt returned. 

Jaskier had seen the dynamic in their friendship - for they had been friends from the very start, no matter what Geralt might have to say - evolve through the years, but the level of care Geralt had been showering the bard with lately was unprecedented. Jaskier had never hidden the fact that his affection for the witcher ran deep, anyone listening to his songs could attest to that. Jaskier had realised though, that Geralt seemed totally oblivious to the fact that his bard had fallen head over heels with the witcher. Worse, every admittedly shy - Jaskier did not want to risk losing his friend - ouvertures Jaskier had tried over the years had been met with a chuckle or a rebuke depending on the day, as if Geralt was just unable to believe them sincere and true. 

Jaskier was usually well versed in matters of the heart, but never before had he felt anything close to this. This devotion, the compulsion to always put Geralt’s needs and wishes above all else. This constant battle between hope and fear for his happiness, knowing full well that a witcher’s life was not an easy one, even more so Geralt’s. Jaskier had loved before, but this was something else entirely. And, sure it was frustrating at times, watching Geralt grow comfortable and affectionate only to see him retreat behind his usual walls of coldness in a wink. But Jaskier believed it was worth the wait. It was a life of hurt that had built Geralt’s defenses, rushing past it would not do them any good. Only the slow grind of time and care would do, and Jaskier had plenty of both. And it was paying off, or so it seemed, given Geralt’s recent behaviour. 

Jaskier did not feel himself drift off to sleep, too busy doing what he did best lately, thinking about Geralt. The nap turned into another day of deep slumber and Jaskier only woke up when Geralt gently shook his shoulder. 

‘You should have some more to eat. I’ve ordered a hot bath to be brought up later.’

‘What would I do without you Geralt.’ Jaskier chuckled, this time leaving the bed and sitting at the rickety table to eat. He could feel Geralt stare and did not know what to think about it. Sure, Geralt had never seen him so low on energy before but he was surprised by the sudden scrutiny.

As he was finishing his plate, babbling about the song he was planning to write about this sordid adventure with the vile spiders while Geralt only groaned when asked a question, a lady came in carrying a heavy wooden bathtub, swiftly followed by two teenagers loaded with buckets of steaming water. In a matter of minutes, Jaskier found himself submerged in the warm water, enjoying the chamomile scented oil he’d put a few drops of in the bath. And, though Geralt had never been one for common courtesy and they’d seen each other naked numerous times - and hadn’t that filled Jaskier’s fantasy for years - he still stared unusually intensely.

‘Out with it witcher, I can hear you thinking from here.’ 

There was a pregnant pause, Geralt finally looking away into the fire. ‘It’s already cold out now. You shouldn’t travel in this state.’

‘And I won’t.’ Jaskier answered confused. ‘I’ll stay here for a few days and get better before I go.’

Glaring at the floor now, Jaskier could see Geralt’s jaw tensing up. ‘I have to leave for Kaer Morhen before the pass is closed off by the snow.’

‘Ah. It’s okay of course,’ Jaskier hurried to say, regardless of the lump in his throat. He wished he had not spent their last days together this year sleeping. ‘You should not delay your travel on my behalf, your brothers will be expecting you. When will you go then, not today I hope, there are still some details from the last contract you need to give me and …’

‘You should come.’

Jaskier snapped his mouth shut and turned in the bath to face Geralt, water sloshing on the boarded floor beneath. Eyes wide, disbelieving, he said ‘Excuse me ?’

‘You should come. With me. To Kaer Morhen.’ Geralt stuttered, still burning holes in the floor.

Barely repressing his excitement, heart racing, Jaskier forced himself to ask, unwilling to bring troubles to his friend. ‘Would it be okay for a visitor to come ? With the other witchers ?’

Geralt nodded jerkily. ‘It’s been done by some before.’

‘I’ll come then !’ Grabbing the edge of the tub and leaning forward, he repeated, ‘I’ll be delighted to come.’

Everything about Geralt’s posture softenned when he heard that. He did not smile fully but Jaskier saw his lips twitch. ‘Alright.’

* * *

Jaskier spent yet another day resting, waking up to find Geralt repacking their bags. There was much to prepare for the trek up to the keep and Geralt took it upon himself to collect everything they would need, dried salted meats and other snacks to eat on the way, warm cloaks, some tinder just in case. He also bought beer, fabric and thread, leather bands which he explained, when Jaskier inquired, would be useful in the keep once winter set in, to patch up clothes, armors and anything they might have damaged in a year of hunts. 

When Jaskier tried to help, Geralt pushed him back down on the bed - which did not leave him breathless and blushing of course - and ordered him to rest while he could, arguing that the walk would not be an easy one. 

Two days later, everything was ready. They left the grateful town with packs full to burst, the air colder than it had been just a week earlier but still warmed by the sun shining low in the sky. The journey would take five days according to Geralt, maybe more since he would be travelling with a non witcher and would have to rest more. 

They followed the road north for a day, Jaskier riding Roach despite his protests, Geralt only glaring and repeating that he should keep his strength, stopping as night fell. In the morning of the following day, Geralt had them leave the path at a seemingly random place, going deeper in the woods as hours passed. Just as Jaskier was about to ask if maybe they had missed a turn, they reached the beginning of a thin trail going up the mountain. 

Geralt walked to a tree near the new path and scrubbed the bark. Intrigued, Jaskier squinted.

‘Oh’ There, carved deep in the tree, was a crude drawing of the wolf medallion Geralt always wore. 

‘They mark the Witcher Trail. These were made a long time ago, so the younger witchers would not get lost on the way.’ He traced the wolf head lightly, fingers spread, a bittersweet smile etched on his face. ‘The hard part starts here Jas. We’ll have to go on foot, the path can be unstable.’ As Jaskier got off Roach and shifted the reins to lead her, Geralt warned him. ‘Be careful from here on, there used to be lots of wargs around here. We try to hunt as many as we can when we come back but it is still best to be on the lookout.’

Jaskier nodded, confident in Geralt’s ability to keep them safe and saying so, before they started up the mountain. The bard soon had to give up on his usual endless chatter to focus on his breath, the hike now silent but for his heavy pants and a few words of encouragement for Roach. Thankfully, the day was not too cold and the sun still accompanied their steps. 

They slept in a small cave that had obviously often been used as a shelter before. There was a big fire pit near the entrance, chests full of mostly clean blankets and even a bed frame on which to lay their bedroll. All this, Jaskier only really noticed in the morning since, when they got there that night, he fell asleep the moment he sat near the fire Geralt had built. He woke up bundled up in blankets, Geralt's heavy arm a warm comfort on his chest. 

The worried look Geralt fixed him with all through breakfast was more endearing than annoying and Jaskier revelled in it. 

‘I’m fine Geralt.’ Seeing the unconvinced slant of the witcher’s eyebrow, Jaskier repeated. ‘I am fine, really. You’re just not used to seeing me so near winter. Trust me when I say that, given the weather, I am at my best right now.’

Jaskier did not say anything about his burning thighs, the heaviness of his eyelids or the shortness of his breath that would probably grow worse each day. That would be rather counterproductive right now. 

‘We’ve made good time yesterday. If we keep this up, we’ll arrive in three days.’

The second day was much like the previous one, but as they were getting higher and higher, the scenery changed. The forest grew thicker, pinetrees replacing the now leafless birch trees behind. They ate a quick lunch up on a small ledge Geralt helped him on, with the most incredible view of the Kaedwen valley below and, so far in the distance that Jaskier had to ask Geralt for confirmation, the sea, a white and blue blurry band merging with the sky. 

That night, Geralt led them to a small hut cradled in the cliff near an icy stream. Everything was fine until, during the night, temperatures dropped drastically. Shivering, Jaskier burrowed deeper under the covers as Geralt went to check on Roach. When he came back, he wrapped himself over Jaskier, spooning him and trying to make sure he was not exposed to the freezing air. Slowly, Jaskier warmed up and got back to sleep, too tired and cold to truly enjoy or tease Geralt for his gentle care, but still immensely grateful.

Everything was covered in white frost in the morning, a thin layer of ice already mostly melted on the stream, evidence of the fast approaching winter. 

‘You’ll ride today,’ was all Geralt said, frown back full force, before they got back on the trail. The path was not cliffside anymore - thank the gods for that, Jaskier had not liked it at all - following the stream upwards. Jaskier fell asleep on Roach’s back, gently rocked by her gait and woke up when they stopped to eat lunch. Geralt seemed less tense, the lines around his eyes gone.

‘We’ll be there tomorrow. The weather should hold until then.’

As usual, Geralt was right. They travelled fast under a still sunny sky, the only exciting event of the day howling in the distance, reminding Jaskier of Geralt’s first warning about wargs living in the woods. They went through the narrow mountain pass in the late afternoon, the sky already turned pink and orange by the sunset, offering an amazing view of the valley that had housed countless generations of witchers. 

A big river bordered by high cliffs the deeper it went in the mountain on one side, a valley of rolling hills, ruins visible on top of some on the other. And right in front of them further north, the keep. Jaskier had not expected it to be so big. Though still too far to tell with any certainty, it seemed more a fortress than the small camp Jaskier had imagined. 

Tomorrow they will get there. Jaskier felt excited to discover this place that had made Geralt, for better or worse. But that was tomorrow. For now, they stood there admiring the scenery, shoulders touching, together. 


	2. For me formidable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the new chapter ! It got much bigger than I intended it to be but well, what can you do.  
> I got lost in some parts of it though and had a hard time focusing, hope this doesn't sho too much :D  
> Let me know in the comment !  
> As always, bonne lecture

The last leg of the journey was probably the nicest. That high in the blue mountain, the air was much colder than it had been in the valley and Jaskier could almost taste winter on the tip of his tongue. But the gently rolling hills leading up to Kaer Morhen were still full of life, croaking crows flying above their heads and huge wolves running not too far, as if to greet them. The river burbled happily in the background, a soft breeze shaking pine trees and scenting the air with their sweet aroma. To put it simply, Jaskier was enchanted. He admired it emphatically and loudly, delighted to see Geralt quietly chuckling next to him. 

Jaskier couldn’t deny that his exuberant joy also helped calm his nerves. Any moment now, they would arrive to the front gate and meet with those that were, in all but blood, Geralt’s family. Jaskier was used to being too loud, too much for most people and he could still remember how hard it had been on Geralt at first. But he wanted this meeting to go smoothly, so he was ready to take it down a notch. It wouldn’t be too hard, he had to admit, given his current state of exhaustion.

He was still babbling, not paying much attention to what he was saying when he saw it. On the cliffside they were following, Jaskier noticed the white imprint of the largest creature he had ever seen. At the sudden silence, Geralt stopped and looked over his shoulder. Jaskier walked to the cliff, lifting his hand to brush against the fossil.

‘There used to be the ocean here.’ Geralt now stood just behind his shoulder, also looking at the wall. 

‘What are they ?’

‘No one knows. This predates the conjunction of the spheres. Come on, we’re almost there.’

Jaskier tore himself from the marvelous view, swearing to himself that he’d come back first chance he got. 

At the next turn, the huge stone gate appeared in front of them. Jaskier was astonished by the sheer size of the keep. Witchers were rare nowadays, but seeing this, Jaskier could only imagine how many of them used to walk the Path. The doors were already wide open and Geralt led them through to what Jaskier recognized as the stables, where they left Roach, unloading her swiftly. 

‘Not sure who got there yet.’ Geralt said, looking at the tacks already stored. ‘Vesemir should be around, probably in the main hall.’

Jaskier followed him out to what he guessed was the training ground - the training dummies and shooting target were a good clue - and into the main building. Jaskier stopped dead, looking around in awe.

It was at once just as and like nothing he had expected. The hall they had walked into was huge, the arch ceiling high above them. White pillars supported the structure, contrasting with the red bricks of the walls. Scattered around the hall, clustered tables, overflowing bookshelves and old but comfy looking armchairs created a warm and welcoming atmosphere, helped by huge rugs, pelts and already roaring fireplaces. 

But what really caught Jaskier off guards were the enormous murals, partially damaged but still magnificent. Almost everywhere he looked, he could see one, witchers and monsters both depicted in ferocious combats. 

‘You’re here early, wolf.’

Jaskier jumped, looking around. Next to him, Geralt smirked and walked toward a corner of the hall where a door was opened. Jaskier followed, still trying to soak up as much of the place as he could. The second room was much smaller, used as both a kitchen and a dining room, large tables and benches in its center, pots hanging on the walls along with dried herbs and jars full of spices and other preserves. A small stairway led down to a cellar, which even from here seemed full of cured meats, barrels and vegetables. 

While Jaskier took this all in, Geralt kept walking up the fireplace, where a man was calmly stirring a big pot over the fire. Geralt dropped their packs down on the ground and, to Jaskier's surprise, hugged the other man who squeezed back just as fervently.

'Had to take advantage of the last days of autumn to travel this year.'

'I can guess why.' The man came to stand in front of Jaskier, extending a hand. 'You must be the bard.' 

Jaskier could now clearly see the golden slitted eyes and the wolf medallion around the witcher's neck. Though smaller and older than Geralt, he still looked plenty strong, which was only confirmed by his handshake, that left Jaskier's hand numb. 

'That I am indeed ! Jaskier, at your service.' he bowed with all his usual flourish, smiling.

'Vesemir.' The witcher carefully studied him, seemed to find him non-threatening, nodding once. 'Dinner will be ready soon. You know where the rooms are.'

Vesemir turned back to the boiling pot, apparently done with the niceties. Geralt, Jaskier hurrying behind him, grabbed their bags and went to a door in the back that led them to a huge spiral staircase. Up and up they climbed before turning in a long corridor. Small windows let light in on one side, a dozen doors on the other. Torches and faded tapestries were hanging here and there to keep the cold and dark at bay come winter. 

Geralt walked to the last door and opened it. 'This will be your room'. It was, as was to be expected, a rather spartan room. A bed, a desk and a chair and, near the fireplace, two plush chairs atop a bearskin rug. ‘It’s right above the kitchen, it shouldn’t get too cold.’ Geralt said, putting Jaskier pack down next to the bed, moving to pile up wood in the hearth. 

Hugging his lute tight against him, Jaskier couldn’t help the blush that accompanied the happiness he suddenly felt. Geralt had invited him here, in his home and was now being thoughtful of his weakness to the cold. ‘Thank you. For, you know. I mean.’ He couldn’t find the right words to express all he was feeling and stuttered helplessly.

Geralt kept his back to him, preparing the fireplace and casting a quick igni. ‘Jask.’

‘Yes ?’

‘You’re welcome.’

Jaskier beamed at him, for once at a loss for words. Geralt got up and went to the door. 

‘My room is the one next to yours. Lambert and Eskel also have their room on this floor. Get change and we’ll go down to eat.’ Geralt left the room, closing the door behind him.

Dinner was a quiet affair - Jaskier had not been surprised one bit. After, Vesemir invited them to join him in the main hall. They seated in front of one of the biggest fireplaces Jaskier had ever seen, the flames throwing lively lights dancing on the murals around them. Vesemir took out three glasses from a small cabinet, filled them with a warm amber alcohol before handing them over. The bard sniffed it discreetly. He’d once dipped a finger in Geralt’s stach of White Gull. He’d regretted deeply once he’d regained his senses, after a night of weird hallucinations which Geralt liked to tease him about to this day. 

This was simple whisky if Jaskier’s nose was to be trusted, and he sighed contentedly after a small sip proved him right, warming him as it went down. Vesemir took a swallow and hummed.

‘Eskel arrived a week ago. I sent him to collect mushrooms and herbs before it starts snowing, he should be back soon.’

‘Hmm. Anything else needs to be done urgently ?’

‘The usual. Leaks in the roof, walls that need repairs. I’ll have Lambert do some hunting once he gets here. You probably should focus on the north east tower, the last storm blew most tiles away.’

‘I’ll take a look tomorrow.’

‘How would you like a tour of the keep in the morning bard ?’ Vesemir's sharp gaze fixated on Jaskier.

‘I’d love that ! I must admit the place is a maze to me right now.’ He laughed, rubbing his neck as he answered. Vesemir nodded and that was that. Conversation flowed slowly but steadily, Geralt talking about some of the contracts he’d taken in the last year, Jaskier interjecting here and there to give some details. Vesemir did not smile but his eyes crinkled as he listened, snorting from time to time when Jaskier told a particularly entertaining anecdote. Jaskier was enjoying himself, listening to Geralt talk maybe more than he ever had, growing mellow with whisky and warmth. He did not feel himself nod off, nor did he feel Geralt carry him back to his room and tucking him in his bed. 

He did feel, through the haze of sleep, Geralt run his hand through his hair slowly. Still drowsy, Jaskier nuzzled in his hand and let out a happy purr. The hand stayed until slumber overtook him, lulling him slowly. 

* * *

The following morning, Jaskier walked along Vesemir through halls, corridors, alchemic laboratories and armories as they visited Kaer Morhen. The old witcher did not say much outside of the practical and historical information but Jaskier more than made up for it, commenting on every little detail that caught his attention. 

If Jaskier thought Geralt had been hard to read at first, Vesemir was on a whole other level. The man was a brick wall, he gave nothing away. Jaskier, when not loudly praising some tidpit of history or trying not so discreetly to question Vesemir about some witcher secret lore, studied Vesemir carefully. His tone was always calm and cordial but not much else. He did not frown, nor smiled during the whole visit. But still, there were some things Jaskier noticed. The way his eyes crinkled, how his voice would get breezy if he found Jaskier’s antics amusing. 

Jaskier decided there and then to put a smile on that face before winter’s end.

They ended the visit in the training ground. Vesemir looked up to the top of the surrounding walls before lifting his gaze to the tower.

'How is it going ?'

Confused, Jaskier looked at him, unsure how to respond until Geralt's voice came from high up the tower's roof.

'The structure is still sound. We'll have to prepare lots of new tiles though.' 

Then, obviously trying to give Jaskier a heart attack, Geralt walked to the roof's edge, crouched and nonchalantly hung himself from a beam. Jaskier -did not- squeak as he watched Geralt climb down the tower which, to Jaskier's eyes, looked awfully smooth. A few rabbity heartbeats later, Jaskier let out a breath he hadn’t noticed he was holding when Geralt touched level ground. 

‘We’ll prepare as many as we can before the next storm hits.’ Vesemir concluded, as if it was a regular occurence to see someone scale down towers in this keep.

‘I see he already has you working ! It’s not too late to leave before the first snow.’ 

Jaskier looked to face the new voice, coming from the main gate. Astride a pale grey horse, another witcher was coming towards them, a teasing smile pulling at the scars crossing his face. His long brown hair, pulled in a ponytail was nothing like Geralt’s and Vesemir’s, but he had the same golden eyes. This was already more facial expression than Jaskier had ever seen a witcher display and he couldn’t help himself, looking from the new man to Geralt and back. 

‘If you did not manage to collect everything I asked for, you’ll be the one leaving Eskel.’ Vesemir answered, huffing and doing his non-smiling smiling face thingy. 

Geralt walked to Eskel and did not even give him time to properly dismount before he pulled him in a hug that looked more like a chokehold. Eskel responded in kind, laughing loudly.

‘It’s good to see you too Geralt. And I see you brought a guest this year ?’ Disentangling himself, Eskel came to stand in front of Jaskier, extending a hand. ‘Nice to finally meet you Jaskier, I’m Eskel.’

Choosing to ignore what the ‘finally’ might imply - Geralt had talked about him and how it made his heart glow - Jaskier took the offered hand. ‘Well met Eskel ! I’m delighted to get to meet Geralt’s brother and I expect to hear every embarrassing childhood story you have on him before winter is over.’

‘Oh I have some of those but Lambert will just love sharing them, just you wait.’ Eskel went back to take his saddle bags. ‘Geralt, mind taking care of Scorpion ? I’ll go and put this all in the cellar to dry.’

Vesemir and Eskel left to prepare his bounty to dry and Jaskier followed Geralt to the stable. Scorpion seemed just as distant as Roach was when Jaskier tried to pet him, but at least he didn’t try to bite him. 

‘Witcher’s horses are the worst.’ He concluded, pouting. They’d had this conversation a hundred times so Geralt just smirked and took down the saddle and the bridle, handing them to Jaskier to clean and hang while the witcher brushed the horse.

‘You looked pretty close to Eskel. Have you always known him ?’ Geralt rarely talked about the other witchers - he rarely talked about anything to be fair. Jaskier was sure going to make the most of his stay and try to learn all he could about this place. He might not be able to make a ballad out of the place, what with it being secret and all, but if he could use these new witchers and their fights to help on improving witcher’s reputation out there, he sure would. 

‘Pretty much yes. We grew up together. Went through the trials at the same times and all. Lambert is a few years younger than us. Probably why he’s such a little shit.’ He muttered the last bit with a frown.

‘Given what you all have to say about him, I must admit that I just can’t wait to meet him !’ Geralt just sighed dramatically with a shake of his head. 

Lunch was a quick thing, some cheese bread and cured ham. Jaskier had never expected the witchers to be idle even here in their home but still, he was surprised by the frenetic energy that inhabited them.

‘Taking care of this place is hard work, and the biggest repairs need to be done before winter sets in and going outside becomes complicated.’ Eskel explained when he saw his bewildered look at Geralt, who was eating lunch and cutting out rough wooden tiles at the same time. 

‘Is winter that rough here ?’

‘It’s the wind that makes it rough. The cold and snow are bearable but the wind is just awful.’

Jaskier did not know much about repairing walls and roofs but he offered his help nonetheless. Vesemir gave him a -far too long list- of chores he could do while staying in the keep that would not require him cutting stones with his bare hand or any such witcher nonsense. 

He had not yet gotten used to the layout of the place but, a few days later, he was happy to say he did not get lost more than twice a day. He was now in the herb garden, tending to the few plants still stubbornly surviving the cold nights. Jaskier was of course nowhere near his spring self, but sleeping in a bed had done him a world of good and he felt comfortable enough to push some energy in the plants or grow a few seeds of herbs Vesemir said they lacked. 

‘That’s convenient.’ 

Jaskier jumped, almost crushing the small seedling in his haste to stand up. 

‘Sorry, did not mean to startle you little lark.’ Eskel apologized, smiling sheepishly. 

Jaskier waved it away. ‘Nothing to apologize for my friend, I tend to forget everything when I’m focused on plants.’

‘Should you be doing that this close to winter ?’ Geralt, standing next to his brother, had his arms crossed over his broad chess. His hair was pulled up in a bun and his sleeves were rolled back and Jaskier had a hard time focusing on the question. After a beat, he shook himself.

‘It is but a few plants my darling. Even this late in the year, growing some leaves will not cause me any harm, especially if I have the certainty of a warm meal and a bed at the end of the day.’

‘Geralt never really explained what you could do. Could you grow anything we might need ?’ Eskel asked, head tilted to the side.

‘I think so yes, if it’s not too big.’ Jaskier shrugged. ‘In spring I could grow trees in seconds and not bat an eye, but right now I’ll stick to herbs.’

Eskel looked impressed and Geralt rolled his eyes, as if Jaskier was bragging - which he was not for once. Together, they all walked back towards the main hall just as a small explosion shook its walls and stopped them where they stood. 

While Jaskier was starting to feel panic seize his muscles, Geralt and Eskel just looked at each other, a similar fondly annoyed look on their face. 

Confused, Jaskier looked at them. ‘Shouldn’t we go and check ?’

‘Hmm’ Geralt snorted and Eskel openly chuckled.

‘Nothing to worry about, come, you’ll see.’

Jaskier followed the two witchers, a step behind and still on the alert, just in case. They passed through the doors to Vesemir’s screams and someone’s manic cackling. Vesemir was covered head to toe in soot, standing in the middle of a smoking circle of black ashes. In front of him, being screamed at, a man was holding himself against a chair, shaking with laughter.

‘You should have seen your face, man it was priceless.’ He said, rubbing off the tears gathered at the corner of his eyes. 

‘You will clean this mess Lambert.’

‘Yeah whatever. Hey, look who’s here !’ Lambert grinned, showing off pointy canines. 

The man was a bit shorter than both of his brothers but that did not bother him as he walked up to Geralt and Eskel and dragued them both down in a group hug that quickly devolved into a brawl, witchers rolling on the floor, when Lambert whispered something in Geralt’s ear. Eskel just stood next to them, shaking his head disapprovingly.

‘Jaskier, meet Lambert, our younger brother. Lambert, this is Jaskier.’ Eskel introduced them.

‘Good to meet you little godling. We were wondering when this bore would finally invite you here to spend winter…’

He could not speak more as Geralt grabbed him in a chokehold and pushed his face on the floor.

‘Boys, enough. How is it that you act like you’re ten years old again whenever you are all in the same room, I’ll never understand.’ Vesemir, a wet rag in hand, was trying to get rid of the mess on his face and failing.

‘He started it.’ Geralt muttered, further proving the old witcher’s point. 

‘I bet this dumbarses only showed you the boring stuff around here. How about I give you a real tour bard ?’ 

‘Well.’ Jaskier never got to finish his sentence since Geralt crossed the distance between them and draped an arm on his shoulders, effectively shutting him up.

‘Back off Lambert. Leave him alone.’

‘By the gods Geralt, relax. I was only gonna show him around.’ Hands up in surrender, Lambert grabbed the packs laid on the table nearby. ‘I’ll go get settled then. See you later losers !’

Jaskier watched him go with wide eyes. ‘I don’t think I understand half of what just happened honestly.’

‘The man is a menace.’ Geralt growled next to him - his hand squeezed Jaskier’s shoulder before he let go, hand gently caressing the small of his back as he went to check on Vesemir. The witcher batted him away and sent him to get a mop, muttering curses all along. 

Jaskier did not see the newcomer again before dinner that night. Eskel had prepared the venison they had hunted while Jaskier had roasted potatoes with thyme and rosemary. A tankard of ale completed the meal. The discussion started normally enough, catching up on what they’d all been doing this past year, what still needed doing before the snow that was expected any days now. Jaskier was happy to simply listen, enjoying how relaxed and content Geralt looked, surrounded by his family. 

‘So tell me bard. What are you exactly ? Cause this oaf never really bothered to explain anything.’. Lambert, elbow on the table and head propped on his hand, looked at him expectantly. Eskel and Vesemir, though more discreet in their curiosity, leaned towards him too.

‘Oh, I guess the simplest answer is that I am the Spirit of Spring ? The personification of the season ?’

‘What does that even mean ?’ Lambert frowned, taking a sip of beer.

‘I am all that spring is. I bring good harvests, grant fertility to those who wish for it. I can grow plants at will and animals are friendly with me.’ Jaskier shrugged at a loss on how to explain something he was never really taught himself.

Vesemir hummed thougfully. ‘Does that mean there are others like you ?’

‘Yes’ Jaskier beamed. ‘I’ve only met with Winter and Summer though, Autumn is a bit shy from what they told me.’

‘So what, you’re an immortal spirit, bringing joy and babies whenever spring comes ?’ Lambert asked with a snort.

‘Well I’m not immortal but I guess that sums it up pretty well.’ Jaskier nodded, nursing his newly filled tankard, plates now empty.

‘What do you mean not immortal ? You’re a spirit.’ Eskel looked as confused as the others.

‘I can still die. I have, several times, since I became Spring. It’s just that whenever my season comes back, I am brought back.’ Seeing the frowns all witchers around him were wearing, he continued. ‘I am still mostly human, you know. I get hurt, I bleed, I die. But the powers I inherited bring my body back to life whenever the snow starts melting and plants grow once more.’

‘SBefore you, there was another Spring ?’ Vesemir elaborated.

‘Yes there was. Summer is the only one old enough to remember her and, according to him, she had been Spring for a very long time. But she got tired of coming back and drowned herself in the middle of the ocean on her way to Skellige. I guess, since she was at the bottom of the sea, she couldn’t be revived and whatever power she had was transferred to a new Spring. Me.’ He finished with a flourish, extending an arm and bowing his head to the side. 

‘So your body has to still exist for you to come back.’ Lambert hypothesized. ‘If you were burned to ashes or…’

‘Enough !’ Geralt slammed his tankard on the table, spilling ale everywhere. He stood up, almost sending the bench to the floor in his hurry, and left the room before anyone could react.

Lambert snorted. ‘He’s such a moron.’ 

‘Shut up. That was uncalled for.’ Eskel reprimanded his brother.

‘I’ll go and see what’s wrong.’ Jaskier nodded to the witchers and left after his friend. He was no tracker, but he’d come to learn that Geralt liked the balcony in the library overviewing the valley. It was as good a place as any to look for him. 

Jaskier had been right to follow his instinct. Geralt was leaning against the bannister, looking down at the scenery. Jaskier couldn’t see much, dark as it was without the full moon, but he could still admire the stars shining above their heads. It was cold, bitterly so, and white puffs followed his every breath. Still he came to stand next to Geralt and bumped their shoulders. 

‘Everything alright ?’

A small hum as all the answer he got and he chose not to push it for now. They stayed like that for a few minutes, shoulders touching. Just as Jaskier was rubbing his hands against the cold and wondering if he should go and grab his cloak, Geralt spoke.

‘I didn’t know.’

‘I’m sorry ?’

‘I didn’t know you could die.’

‘Ah. I guess it just never came up.’

‘Travelling with me is dangerous.’ Geralt's hands turned white on the bannister, grisp tightening dangerously. ‘You could get hurt.’

‘It’s been the case for the last nineteen years dear. Even before you knew what I was. And it is a risk I am willing to take.’ Jaskier put his hand atop Geralt’s. He did not expect Geralt to turn it and lace their fingers. The witcher, still not facing him, eyes lost in the dark expanse below them, breathed in a small voice.

‘What if you die.’

Bringing his free hand to Geralt’s face, Jaskier pushed so their eyes met. The frown did not leave Geralt, his mouth a unhappy moue. ‘Then I’ll come back. I’ll always come back to you.’

This was more of a confession than Jaskier had been ready to make but Geralt needed reassuring dammit and he would give anything to lift his companion’s mood right now. And it seemed to help, Geralt heaving a long sigh and closing his eyes. Ever so slowly, he lowered his head and brought their forehand together.

Here, standing in the icy night of Kaer Morhen, closer than they’d ever been, Jaskier forgot to feel cold, sheltered in Geralt warm care.


	3. Bambino

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the third chapter ! There should only be one more to go. Hope you like it, as always let me know in the comments :D  
> Et bonne lecture à vous <3

They had arrived in Kaer Morhen almost three weeks ago. Jaskier marvelled at how quickly he’d settled in life in the keep among witchers. He still got lost and he did not always know how to react to Lambert’s mean jokes, but he was getting there. The days were spent on repairs and hunts, preparing everything for the incoming storms. The witchers did not openly speak about it, but Jaskier could see the worried look they frequently sent to the now perpetually cloudy sky. Vesemir handed out new missions the minute one of them was done with a task and there was never really a minute to spare. Lunch was taken on the go and they only really stopped once the sun went down, a bit sooner everyday that passed. 

Evenings were Jaskier’s favourite time of the day. They would eat dinner together, then move to the hall and its comfy chairs to enjoy mulled wine and speak until the small hours of the night. The intimate atmosphere - and the alcohol - sometimes invited quiet conversations about the hardship of the Path, the lost witchers and the close calls they’d had to face recently. On one such evening, Lambert told them of a week spent hiding in a cave, sick and unable to stand, after he’d been poisoned by an innkeeper somewhere in Toussaint. Geralt had gritted his teeth and Eskel had patted Lambert’s knee in silent support while Vesemir noted down the village name in a ledger for future reference, next to a depressingly long list of other places witchers had been met with scorn. 

Other nights they played Gwent, Jaskier happily winning against them all to the point that Eskel looked at him with reverence and asked the bard to teach him his tricks. 

Jaskier just loved sharing this time with them and getting to see them all so free. He had already filled pages upon pages of lyrics and poems inspired by their fights, whether they were with monsters or human cruelty. Some of them, he might never sing it out there but he would compile it all and leave them here in the library to commemorate them, for ages to come.

* * *

Today was meant to be like any other, but when Jaskier woke up, his body felt heavy, disconnected. He opened his eyes, mouth dry and head fuzzy. He took a deep breath and tried to sit up. His trembling arms did not hold his weight and he fell back down on his bed. A few more hours of rest would not hurt. He closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep in seconds. 

‘Jaskier. Jaskier, wake up.’

Someone was shaking his shoulder insistently. Jaskier moaned and tried to get away, burrowing under the furs. The person - Geralt he realised - stopped him.

‘Jaskier, you have to wake up for me.’

Well, if you put that way. Jaskier cracked an eye then the other. Geralt stood above him, looking worried.

‘Wha’s going on ?’ Jaskier slurred, still half asleep.

‘It’s late and I couldn’t wake you up. Is everything alright ?’ Geralt’s hand moved from his shoulder to his cheek, softly stroking it. ‘Are you okay ?’

‘Late ? Isn’t it morning ?’

‘It’s almost lunchtime.’ Geralt stood up and Jaskier had to stop himself from whining at the loss of warmth on his face. Geralt went to the windows and pulled the curtain, letting light in. 

‘Oh.’

At the small exclamation, the bard turned to try and see what had surprised his friend. Even from his place in the bed, he too could see the white flakes slowly dancing down in the wind.

‘It’s the first snow. Is that why you’re so tired ?’

‘Yes, Winter has truly started.’ Jaskier sat up, joints creaking with his every move. ‘I was actually planning on talking to you today about what to expect. Guess I should have done it sooner.’ He patted his bed and Geralt sat down next to him.

‘From now on I’ll sleep a lot more. I’ll have to warn Vesemir too because I won’t be much good before late morning. And even if I don’t get sick, I’ll be weak.’

‘You already look sick.’ Geralt grunted. ‘You’re pale as a ghost and your hair almost looks black. The only colors you have left are your eyes and lips.’

‘My darling witcher, we’ll make a poet out of you yet.’ Jaskier grabbed Geralt’s hand just as the witcher rolled his eyes. ‘But you’re right, I’ll look sickly for a few months.’

Geralt remained silent a moment before nodding. ‘Anything we can do to help ?’

Jaskier shook his head with a smile. ‘Not much I’m afraid, I already have most of what I’ll need. A warm place where to rest and food really are all that helps me get through this season.’

Geralt looked unconvinced but nodded again, promising to let Vesemir know. That day marked the first time Geralt ever saw Jaskier at his lowest. Jaskier trusted Geralt with his life, so he was not scared to be treated poorly while weak like he’d sometimes been in the past. He was going to be vulnerable and, for the first time in maybe forever, it was alright to be. 

Jaskier whiled the day away reading in the library, dragging his sore body and his mountain of furs from one place to the next. Eskel came to give a small lunch and check on him at midday, before running back out where all other witchers were doing last minute repairs. He lost himself for a few hours, looking out the windows at the snow drifting down, playing his lute in time with their graceful fall. The snow did not stop falling that day, nor the next three days. Softly, silently, the flakes piled up and covered everything outside in a heavy white blanket. 

The witchers, now bound indoors too, spent their days caring for their gears, sparring in the main hall or reading up on the latest research on monsters Vesemir had managed to get his hands on that year. Jaskier slept deeply through most of it, nodding off whenever he sat down for more than an hour, waking up buried under mounts of blankets Geralt piled on him to warn off the cold draughts. Lambert, the dick, made a game of it, piling books, plates and once daggers on the blankets atop Jaskier whenever Geralt was away. This of course devolved into a very entertaining brawl in the middle of the library, that Vesemir had to break before they damaged the rare books.

The cold that swept through the keep maintained Jaskier in a constant state of semi consciousness. He was used to it, after so many years going through this, but Geralt wasn’t and, during the first week, he never let Jaskier out of his sight for too long. He always had a blanket or a snack handy in case the bard might need it and worried whenever Jaskier slept for more than thirteen hours straight, something that happened fairly often right now.

In the end, slowly reassured that Jaskier had not lied about his well being, witnessing for himself that though frail, his companion was in good health, Geralt stopped hovering so much but still never left Jaskier’s side when the bard was awake. They came to enjoy spending this time sitting quietly next to one another in front of the fire, Jaskier focused on his composing and Geralt busy sharpening all the antic weapons left over years in the armory. Caught in this timeless bubble of calm, all sounds muffled by the deep snow outside the keep, Jaskier and Geralt drifted closer and closer, happy and content.

* * *

Storms the likes of which Jaskier had never seen before shook the stones of Kaer Morhen until even the outside walls were covered in ice. The howling winds Eskel had warned him about rattled the windows and doors, infiltrating the corridors and biting at Jaskier’s fingertips. The blizzard’s violence never ceased to amaze him. He felt humbled by these displays, small in front of such power, stones splitting and trees bending under its wrath. 

He was currently sitting on one of the benches Geralt had brought out in the training ground, watching as the witchers cleared enough snow to get the horses out to train a bit. The snow had finally stopped during the night, after two weeks of unending storms. They’d all unanimously decided to spend the day relishing in what little sunlight they could get outside, even Jaskier, who despite the cold was braiding thin bands of leather Vesemir needed to restore Lambert’s armor. Geralt and Lambert were shoveling snow to free the way to the stables, stepping on any patch left to make sure the horses wouldn’t slip on it. It was slow going, tiring work and Eskel soon joined them to help. 

Just as this was about to devolve into a full out snowball fight, all three witchers stopped and faced the gate as one. Jaskier, alerted, sat up and tried to see what had caught their attention. Vesemir came out and he too watched through the court to the closed gate. 

‘Someone’s coming.’ He warned Jaskier in a low voice.

‘What ? How can this be, the pass is closed and the roads are impracticable !’

‘Exactly.’ Jaskier just noticed that the old witcher had his scabbard in hand and, when he looked at Geralt, he saw that his friend had grabbed his own too. Though a god, Jaskier could only rely on his very human senses and he couldn’t hear a thing, but given the rising tension in the witchers, the intruder was getting nearer and nearer. 

Just as Lambert and Geralt raised their hands, signs at the ready, there was a knock. Stunned, no one reacted until the knock came back, louder and more insistent. 

‘I’m not exactly getting cold out here Jaskier but I’d still appreciate it if you’d let me in.’ 

Coming back to himself, Jaskier let out a delighted laugh and felt a smile slowly creeping up. Securing the furs around him, he made his way through the snow, feeling the witchers eyes on him.

Just as he was about to grab the lock and open the door, Geralt spoke up. ‘Jaskier ?’ 

Still smiling, Jaskier reassured him. ‘It’s alright, she’s a friend.’ He still waited for his friend to nod his assent before finally opening the door. 

‘You took your time.’

‘Oh stop it you, I know how much you love a dramatic entrance.’

She was as beautiful as she’d ever been. Taller than him and thin as a rod, her dark skin contrasted beautifully with her clear leather travel cloak and the snow surrounding her. He jumped in her arms before she could prepare and almost sent them rolling in the snow, but her deceptively strong arms caught him before it got to that. With Jaskier still hanging off her neck, giggling, she entered the keep and walked towards the witchers. Once closer, she stopped and nodded. 

‘Nice to meet you all. I’m Morana. Thank you for taking care of my dumb brother.’ She greeted dryly. 

‘Hey.’ Jaskier tried to protest weakly. This seemed to thaw the last of the witcher’s weariness and Geralt nodded back at her as Lambert and Eskel chuckled not so quietly at Jaskier’s expense. 

‘Welcome to Kaer Morhen.’ Vesemir, ever the stoic man, offered and shook her hand. 

‘Thank you. I won’t be imposing for long, I’ll leave in a couple hours.’

‘Already ?’ Jaskier complained, finally letting go of her and giving her the kicked puppy eyes. 

‘Places to be, storms to start and all that. We can’t all just sit on our arses and frolic away our season.’

Jaskier huffed in mock outrage as she ruffled his hair. ‘Do you want some mulled wine, something to eat ?’ he offered and trotted to the kitchen when she accepted. 

As he came back out, laden with a plate full of cold meats, cheese and bread, he noticed that Morana was now standing in the middle of the court. As she extended her arms, the wind picked up around her, lifting the snow in a growing swirl of white. She lifted her hands in one quick motion and all the snow on the ground was picked up by the wind, carried up and out of the keep in a matter of seconds. 

Eskel gapped at the now pristine court before looking over at Jaskier. ‘It take back everything I said, you’re not that impressive compared to Winter here.’ 

Hearing that, Morana smirked smugly as she came to grab the cup Jaskier had brought back for her.

‘That’s just unfair. Wait till spring and I’ll show you just how strong I am.’ He set down the plate on the table next to the benches where they sat. ‘What brings you up here dear sister ?’

‘I’m strong this year, stronger than I usually am. I wanted to check if it wasn’t too hard on you.’

‘Oh, you were worried about your little baby brother.’ Jaskier cooed. ‘No worries there, I’m being well taken care of this year.’

‘Yes.’ She said, looking at Geralt out the corner of her eyes. ‘I can see that.’

Jaskier kicked her under the table, which only made her laugh harder. 

‘Where are you planning to go from here ?’ Eskel asked, obviously curious. ‘There are not many shelters around the keep and the nearest city is days away.’

‘I’ll be going up higher in the Blue mountains. There are glaciers I need to check on.’ This got Vesemir’s attention too and the two witcher’s started questioning her back and forth about her powers, her self-imposed missions and the other Seasons.

Jaskier was happy to catch up with her in the few hours she stayed. She was not the most demonstrative person, especially when compared to Jaskier, but she’d been the first other Season he’d met. She’d taught him all she knew about what it meant to be one and Jaskier had loved her dry humour from the start. Hours passed quickly and Morana soon stated that it was time she was on her way. 

They accompanied her to the gate where Jaskier crushed her in another bear hug - or at least he tried to. ‘Are you sure you’ll be alright ? It’s already late, you won’t get far on foot. You can just stay the night you know.’

‘I’ll be alright.’ She raised her hand and waved it around. Ice lifted from the ground, swirling in the air, growing thicker, gradually shaping itself into a beautiful translucent sledge. Lifting her hand once more, Morana also crafted an ice stag, proudly stomping the snow and displaying his antlers as she harnessed it to the sledge. 

‘Show off.’

‘Jealousy is not a good look on you Jaskier.’ She put her pack into it and got on. ‘Take care of yourself brother. There’s still weeks of winter to come.’

‘We’ll look after the idiot.’ Geralt promised, draping an arm on Jaskier’s shoulder. The bard elbowed him as hard as he could - not very hard, he did want to risk dislodging him - and glared at the two.

‘I’ll be carefull. Enjoy your season my dear and feel free to come by and say hello whenever.’

She nodded, waved at them a final time and clicked her tongue, starting the stag at a trot.

‘She’s so much cooler than you man.’

‘Shut up Lambert.’

The other witchers went back in the keep and left Jaskier and Geralt to look at the retreating figure of the sledge, white snow shining in the afternoon cold light. The scenery was breathtaking but Jaskier could only think of the hand on his shoulder, Geralt’s thumb gently caressing his neck. He pressed harder against Geralt’s side, dropping his head on the witcher’s shoulder and breathed in his scent deep. 

Winter would remain for some time yet, but already Jaskier could feel the faint echoes of spring under his feet, a warm wave calmly rising from the depth of the earth. He still couldn’t reach for it, wouldn’t be able to for a few more weeks probably, but spring was getting nearer every day. Soon they would be back out on the roads, hunting down monsters, singing their way through the continent. While Jaskier looked forward to it, he knew he would miss the calm atmosphere of Kaer Morhen, and he was set on enjoying it to the very last second.


	4. L'aquarium

Time passed slowly in the keep during winter. But one morning, Jaskier woke up earlier than he had in weeks, and opened his curtain to water slowly dripping from the ice melting above his window. He took in a deep breath and tasted a new sweetness to the ambient air. Energized, electrified almost, he ran out to the courtyard. Everywhere he looked, new clues pointed to the end of winter. Puddles were forming where just the day before snow still piled up, the sun warmed his face and there, between the rocks in the wall, Jaskier spotted the smallest of flower bud peaking out. He walked to it, reverently cupped it in his hands. Jaskier gently blew on it. The flower unfurled, revealing the smallest of yellow petals. 

Giggling, Jaskier looked for others and ran, flower to flower, helping along their bloom. Soon the whole wall was dotted in yellows and greens.

‘Spring is coming.’

Geralt was looking at the clouds, apparently reading more into their mouvement and shapes than Jaskier could, but still he agreed.

‘Yes.’

‘We’ll have to prepare then. We’ll leave as soon as the pass is practicable.’

Hearing that, Jaskier couldn’t help the twist that squeezed his heart. He’d come to love the easy rhythm they’d all fallen in, Eskel’s shyness and Lambert’s being a dickhead. The calm and steady cadence of Vesemir’s voice when he told him of the times before, when witchers were many more walking the Path. He realised he would miss them and hoped he’d be allowed to come back to spend winter with them.

‘You look better.’ Geralt took a strand of Jaskier hair between his fingers and pulled on it. ‘Your hair is already getting lighter.’

‘Well, I must admit that I do feel better than when we got here.’ Retaliating, Jaskier grabbed at a stray grey lock hanging in front of Geralt’s face. ‘Thank you. For bringing me here with you. I’ve never spent a lovelier winter.’

‘Hmm.’ Geralt shook his head, dislodging Jaskier’s hand, but he kept his own on the bard’s neck. They stayed there a while before they went back in, for if winter was at an end, the mountain air was still freezing this early in the day. 

This day marked the beginning of new preparations. In the following weeks, the keep was deep cleaned, heavy furs shaken and put away for the next year in chests. The wolves were getting ready to leave their den for another year of hunting on the path, leaving the keep behind, waiting for them to come back next winter. Jaskier did not have much to pack but he dusted his room and helped wherever he could. 

After months of hibernating, time seemed to speed up and days flew by without Jaskier realising it until one day, there was almost no snow left outside. They were eating lunch outside for once, enjoying the balmy air.

‘We’ll be leaving tomorrow morning.’ Geralt declared out of the blue. The other witchers nodded and said they would all be gone by the end of the week too. Jaskier was both sad to go and excited to finally have a chance to play his new songs to a wider audience - witchers were not the best critics he’d found. They’d seemed to enjoy his company just as much as he’d enjoyed theirs, but one never really knew what was going one behind the golden eyes of a witcher. That’s probably why Jaskier was so surprised when Eskel looked at him and asked. 

‘Will you be coming back next year little lark ?’

Taken aback, Jaskier turned to Geralt, then Vesemir, mouth opening and closing but unable to talk. Looking back at Eskel he managed to form a coherent sentence despite his astonishment. 

‘If I’m allowed I’d love to. Spending winter here was amazing and there are still many books I’d love to read in the library.’

‘You’re welcome anytime bard.’ Vesemir stated.

Joy at being accepted back in the keep, amongst those usually so very private men, overwhelmed him. Warmth flooded him and he nodded, letting himself enjoy the feeling.

‘It’s settled then.’

A sudden snort from Lambert brought everyone’s attention to the tree they were eating under. Green leaves were unfurling swiftly, branches almost shaking themselves back to life with every new bud. Looking around, Jaskier realised that the whole keep was gradually turning all kinds of green as long forgotten flowers grew from the ground. Daffodils, crocus, jasmine and myrtle bloomed everywhere in the court just as the other trees around the keep were being covered in leaves. Soon, the court looked like a wild flower meadow, gently rustling in the breeze. 

‘Still not as cool as your sister.’

Jaskier blew Lambert a raspberry as a robin came to stand on his shoulder, thrilling, which earned him an eye roll from Geralt. Once they were done eating, Jaskier walked through the newly created meadow, picking flowers here and there. He went back to sit under the tree, now fully covered in bright green leaves. He started braiding the stems together, meticulously wrapping them over twigs and shaping a small flower crown, full of violet and white crocus. 

He saw in the corner of his eye Geralt coming to sit next to him against the tree trunk, lifting his face towards the sun. 

'Ready to go back on the road ? Everything packed ?'

Geralt hummed in confirmation. Jaskier lifted himself on his knees next to his companion and dropped the crown on his head. The white and purple complimented the silver of Geralt's hair and the gold of his slanted eyes. The witcher huffed a laugh but left the crown where it was. 

The man was beautiful, face soft and relaxed. Jaskier looked his fill, soaking in the view and committing it to memory. Geralt met his gaze and smiled. The bard brought a hand to Geralt's face, cupping his cheek. The witcher leaned into the touch before turning his hand to kiss his palm. He grabbed Jaskier's hand in his own and tugged to bring him closer. 

The bard went willingly, shuffling so he was almost sitting on Geralt's lap. Tugging again, the witcher brought their faces closer still. They shared a breath, noses touching.

'Yes ?' Geralt asked, voice hoarse.

'Do you really have to ask, darling witcher ?' Jaskier chuckled, brushing his lips against the corner of Geralt's mouth. 

'Jaskier.' Geralt almost growled, bringing his hand to Jaskier's head and tugging his hair. 

Breath catching, he whispered. 

'Yes, yes of course yes, you stupid man.'

He'd barely finished speaking before Geralt crushed their lips together in a hungry kiss. Jaskier had often imagined how it would be, kissing Geralt, but it all paled in comparison to the feeling of his mouth against his own. No daydream could have prepared him to the way Geralt tilted his head to deepen the kiss, or how he would withdraw to look at him, drinking in the sight of his kiss swollen lips before sinking back against him for another kiss. 

The urgency of the first kisses faded slowly, leaving them simply enjoying this newfound closeness. This was not a surprising development for either of them. They'd been steadily going in this direction all winter and this felt like the logical conclusion of a slow dance they'd been performing for years. Jaskier basked in the satisfaction of having reached this new stage, breathing in Geralt's smell.

After a final kiss, Jaskier drew back with a sigh. Geralt lifted a hand to the bard's head, bringing his attention to the feeling of a new weigh on his hair. Geralt plucked something and brought it in front of his eye.

'What does it mean ?' He asked, twirling the flower between his fingers.

'This, my dear, is a red camelia.' he brought his hand up to the flower crown that had bloomed on his head. 'It has several meanings.' He got closer, whispering directly into Geralt's ear, biting at the lobe. 'What do you think it might mean here ?'

In one fell swoop, Geralt stood up, grabbing Jaskier and hoisting him on his shoulder, stabilizing him with a hand on his tights. The bard laughed wholeheartedly as the witcher speedwalked to his room where they spent the afternoon learning one another intimately, repeatedly.

They had a hard time leaving their room but Jaskier was happy to spend this last evening with everyone, enjoying a final dinner and drinking far too much wine.

They left early the next morning, despite Jaskier's hangover. The other witchers all came to wish them safe travels with many of manly claps on shoulders form Vesemir and Lambert and hugs from Eskel.

They left the keep, only looking back once they got to the far end of the valley. Jaskier took it all in one last time. Geralt, back in full gear for the first time in months, stood next to him. The witcher took his hand in his and brought it to his lips, kissing its back softly. 

Jaskier smiled at him, feeling the wilderness around them growing in answer to his lately constant overwhelming joy. Still hand in hand, they turned and left the keep behind, towards new adventures in this new spring. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are ! Their first winter together is now over :D  
> Hope you liked this new chapter, even though it's a tad smaller than it usually is.   
> I've been thinking about a small one shot to add to this verse, we'll see how it goes.  
> Thanks for staying with me for this adventure !


End file.
